


Lost and Found

by AgtSpooky



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Xindi attack on Earth and the subsequent search for the weapon has pushed the crew of the Enterprise to their breaking point. But instead of drawing closer together during this time of crisis, Jonathan Archer and Trip Tucker have lost each other along the way. Is it too late to find their way back to one another or have the Xindi claimed two more victims?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Keri on the EntSTSlash list for getting me over my writer’s block with several plot bunnies. How could I resist tired and hurting Trip?

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Captain Jonathan Archer was exhausted.

 

Though it should come as no surprise as that was his perpetual state of being ever since Enterprise had entered the Expanse months ago. They were no further along now in the search for the Xindi weapon poised to destroy Earth than they were when they’d started, and it was beginning to take its toll on the crew. Everyone was tense, on edge, the MACO’s itching for a fight, morale at an all time low.

 

Jon sighed inwardly as the door to the mess hall slid open and he stepped inside. Speaking of the crew…he spied Trip sitting by himself in the corner, hunched over three data padds, with just as many empty coffee mugs on the table, but no food. It struck Jon that he didn’t remember the last time he’d seen Trip actually eating and not just ingesting caffeine. He frowned. Another reminder of how far apart they’d grown lately.

 

Meals in the captain’s mess were a rarity these days, but with Trip here alone it seemed like the perfect time to sit down together and just…talk. The blond-haired engineer turned as he approached and Jon could plainly see the weariness on his face.

 

“Hey,” Jon said quietly, mustering up a smile. “How about having dinner with me?”

 

Trip’s face brightened but before he could say anything the ship’s comm system beeped.

 

 _“Bridge to Captain Archer,”_ came Hoshi’s voice.

 

Jon’s mouth tightened as he moved away from Trip to answer the call. “Go ahead.”

 

_“You’re needed up here, sir.”_

 

Jon let out a frustrated breath and turned back to Trip, an apology on his lips. But the engineer just looked at him with resigned disappointment and turned back to his data padds without a word.

 

Jon closed his eyes and pressed the comm button. “I’m on my way,” he said tightly then walked out the door, leaving Trip alone. Again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Commander Trip Tucker was exhausted.

 

Though it should come as no surprise as that was his perpetual state of being ever since Enterprise had entered the Expanse months ago. He spent every waking moment trying to keep the ship running. If it wasn’t a hostile alien species trying to strip it for parts it was the near constant anomalies trying to destroy her.

 

Which is why he was currently in cargo bay three, searching for yet another spare part for the EPS grid after it blew this afternoon. Travis had tried his best to avoid the anomaly but had grazed it enough to fry several electrical systems.

 

Trip reached up over his head to pull down another container and felt his lower back protest the stretch. He dragged the heavy box toward him and set it down on the floor, crouching in front of it. Again his back gave a twinge and he reached around to massage the area. Too many hours crawling up, over, around and under the warp engine and practically every conduit tube Enterprise had was starting to take its toll on his body. What he wouldn’t give for a chiropractor right now. Or better yet, a masseuse. A certain one in particular, but it had been a long time since he’d felt his hands on his body and didn’t know when he would again.

 

Trip sighed, pulling his thoughts away from the hazel-eyed man and rummaged through the container, blowing out a frustrated breath when he didn’t find the part he was looking for. He slammed the lid shut, locked it and stood up. Too quickly it turned out, as he felt his blood rush downward, leaving him instantly lightheaded. He swayed and reached out to catch himself on the nearest container. He closed his eyes and hung his head, waiting for the dizziness to pass, the apparent by-product of his lack of food and sleep. He knew he should be eating more regularly, but he’d just had no appetite since they’d entered the Expanse. Hell, before that, really. Since Florida… And sleep? Yeah, that wasn’t happening, at least for more than an hour at a time.

 

“Trip?”

 

Trip opened his eyes and straightened up at the sound of Jon’s voice. He hadn’t heard the cargo bay door open or close. He could see the concern on Jon’s face as he approached but instead of being thankful he cared, all he felt was annoyance.

 

Jon reached out to lay a hand on Trip’s arm. “Are you okay?”

 

Trip backed up out of Jon’s reach, his exhaustion taking control of his words. “ _Now_ you want to know?” he snapped. “I haven't been okay for a long time, but since you hardly have time for me anymore you wouldn’t know, would you?”

 

Trip could see the shock cross Jon’s face at his sudden outburst, but before the captain could say anything their attention was drawn to the intense vibration in the deck plating. Understanding dawned on them at the same time, a split second before the walls began to waver and the anomaly rushed through the cargo bay. Both men were lifted off their feet before being hurled back down to the deck as a pyrotechnic display of sparks burst from the control panels near the door.

 

It was over in a matter of seconds and both men pushed themselves to their feet, thankful to see that the tall piles of cargo containers had only shifted and not toppled, or they would have been crushed.

 

“Are you hurt?” Jon asked quickly.

 

Trip shook his head. “No. You?”

 

“I’m good,” Jon answered then turned and strode quickly to the door, slapping at the controls.

 

Accustomed to the door sliding open nearly instantaneously, Jon started moving before realizing the door wasn’t opening and bumped into it. He pressed the door control again and got the same response – nothing.

 

“It’s shorted out,” Trip called over to him. “We’re gonna have to be cut out of here.”

 

Jon banged the door with his fist in frustration and slapped at the comm panel. “Archer to the bridge.”

 

 _“Bridge here,”_ came Malcolm’s clipped British voice.

 

“Malcolm, send a maintenance team to cargo bay three. Commander Tucker and I are trapped in here. That last anomaly shorted out the door controls and fused it shut.”

 

_“Aye, sir, right away. Might be a bit of a wait. There’s quite a bit of damage on your deck. Are either of you injured?”_

 

“No, we’re fine. You and T’Pol prioritize what needs to be repaired. We’re not going anywhere. Do I need to be concerned about the damage?”

 

_“No, sir. Structural only. No injuries reported and all critical systems, including the warp engine, are online.”_

 

 “Very well, Lieutenant. Contact me if need be.”

 

Jon turned away from the comm panel then and walked back over to Trip, coming to a stop a few feet away. They just stared at one another, the silence heavy and uncomfortable in the air.

 

They used to be completely devoted to one another. Now they were complete strangers.

 

Jon cleared his throat, looking at Trip intently and Trip knew he could see the weariness written all over him. “When’s the last time you slept?” he asked.

 

 _Because it hasn’t been with me_ were the words left unspoken.

 

Trip shrugged. “Got an hour or so last night.”

 

Jon drew his eyebrows together. “I thought the neuro-pressure sessions with T’Pol were helping.”

 

“Oh they are. I can fall asleep now just fine. But staying that way…there are things I don’t wanna see when I close my eyes…” he muttered, glancing away from Jon.

 

He could tell that Jon wanted him to continue, to confide in him, but they hadn’t confided in each other in a long time and he didn’t feel like starting now. He heard Jon sigh and looked back at him.

 

“What happened to us?” Jon whispered brokenly.

 

Trip swallowed thickly at the sadness he could see in Jon’s hazel eyes. “I don’t know what to say to you because I don’t know who you are anymore, Jon,” he began, voice heavy. “You're so cold, distant. You've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, literally, and I understand that. And all I want to do is help you, be there for you, but all you've done is shut me out.” He paused, disappointment and anger creeping into his voice. “You used to talk to me about everything, I was your sounding board. But ever since we entered the Expanse you go to T'Pol about everything. Do you know how that makes me feel, how much that hurts me? Why are you pushing me away?”

 

Trip watched as guilt crossed Jon’s features briefly. “You haven't been the easiest person to approach lately, either,” he responded. “You're so angry, Trip. And you have every right to be. You lost your sister and you're hurting and I understand that. But I need someone with a level head right now, like T'Pol.”

 

Just the mention of Elizabeth was like a stab to the heart and he hated Jon for bringing her up, hated him for turning elsewhere for counsel, hated him for not being there for him when he so desperately needed him.

 

But before he could once again let his exhaustion control his words, this time saying something he _knew_ he would regret, the maintenance crew arrived and began cutting through the door with a plasma torch, curtailing their conversation.

 

Needing to release his pent up anger, Trip turned to the cargo container at his feet, intending to pick it up and slam it down on top of the stack. But the moment he jerked up the heavy container and heaved it over his head he felt a muscle give way in his back, the pain so sharp he cried out and went down to his knees, then on his side, the container crashing to the deck beside him.

 

“Trip!”

 

Jon was beside him in an instant, on his knees, hand grasping Trip’s shoulder.

 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jon asked quickly, concerned.

 

“My…back,” Trip ground out.

 

Jon’s hand instinctively went there and Trip could feel the muscle spasming under his fingers.

 

Jon turned his head as the cargo bay door was pushed open. He pointed to the first crewman that walked through. “Call sickbay. Get Dr. Phlox down here.”

 

“No,” Trip protested, pushing himself up to a seated position and releasing a long breath. “I’m fine, really. I just pulled something.”

 

“Trip…” Jon started, but the engineer cut him off.

 

“I don’t have time to be laying in sickbay,” Trip said forcefully. “I just…need a minute.”

 

“And I can’t afford to have you seriously injured if you keep pushing yourself like this,” Jon answered just as strongly. “If you won’t go to sickbay then you’re going to go lay down and get some rest and give your back a break for a few hours.”

 

Trip shook his head sharply and opened his mouth to protest again but Jon overrode him.

 

“That’s an _order_ , Commander,” he said sharply and Trip snapped his mouth shut, glaring at Jon since that was the only thing he could do now that he had pulled rank on him.

 

Jon put one hand on Trip’s upper arm and grasped the engineer’s hand with the other. “Let me help you up,” he said, voice softening.

 

Not wanting to make a scene in front of the two maintenance crewmen, Trip took the offered help and rose cautiously to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain of the cramping muscle. Jon kept his hand on Trip’s upper arm for support as they walked slowly to the door and past the crewmen to the nearest turbo lift. Once inside Trip arched his eyebrow in question when Jon punched the button for E Deck instead of B Deck, where Trip’s quarters were located.

 

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in a bigger bed,” Jon explained. “And we’re not done talking yet,” he finished quietly.

 

Trip clenched his jaw and said nothing. Was Jon going to make that an order, too? Because he didn’t have anything more to say that wasn’t going to drive an even bigger wedge between them.

 

They walked in silence to Jon’s quarters but Trip couldn’t help but chuckle at the enthusiastic greeting Porthos gave him. He sat down gingerly on the side of the bed and scratched the playful beagle behind his ears.

 

“I know, boy. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much,” he said to the dog, shooting a sideways glance at Jon, who was moving to the comm unit on his desk.

 

Porthos licked Trip’s hand repeatedly and the engineer smiled. “Yeah, I missed you, too.” Apparently satisfied, Porthos gave a happy bark then went and settled back down on his bed, tail wagging.

 

“…you have the bridge,” Trip heard Jon saying. “And please inform Engineering that Commander Tucker will be not be returning to duty today.”

 

 _“Is the Commander ill?”_ came T’Pol’s concerned reply.

 

“He’s hurt his back,” Jon explained. “Nothing too serious but I want him off his feet for the rest of his shift.”

 

_“Understood.”_

 

Jon turned away from his desk and Trip stared back at him sullenly, still smarting from Jon ordering him here.

 

“Take off your uniform,” Jon told him and Trip looked at him incredulously.

 

“Are you serious? I’m not – “

 

“That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Jon said quickly. “You’re in pain and don’t pretend you’re not. I just want to massage your back,” he explained. “Let me do this for you. Please.”

 

Trip shook his head wearily. “I just need to lay down for a minute. It’ll subside.”

 

Jon sat down next to him. “How many years have I been doing this for you?”

 

Trip hesitated for a moment. “More than I can count,” he finally admitted.

 

“And hasn’t it always worked?” Jon asked. “Relaxed you?”

 

Trip knew he was right, knew he needed this, but was reluctant say yes, to let Jon in so easily when there was too much unsettled between them. His decision was taken away from him, however, when another sharp pain flared through his back and he grimaced. It was this or Jon would order him to sickbay, he knew it. So with a resigned sigh he reached up to unzip his uniform, never more grateful than right now it was a one-piece jumpsuit that wouldn’t require him to lift up his arms. He unzipped it to his waist and Jon helped him pull it down and off his shoulders and arms.

 

While Trip unbuttoned his black undershirt, Jon kneeled down on the floor to remove his boots and Trip had a sudden, intense flashback; San Francisco in the early days of the warp five program, practically crawling into their apartment after hours of bending and twisting, working on the engine, his back screaming in protest, and Jon doing exactly this – undressing him, ready to massage away the pain.

 

Trip swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. He missed that closeness so much it was a physical ache deep inside him.

 

Jon finished taking off his boots and looked up at him and Trip had to blink away both the vision and the prick of moisture in his eyes, concentrating on undoing the last of the buttons. Jon helped him off with that, too, and he was thankful he hadn’t put on his tank top this morning. He shifted his hips and pushed his uniform down and off his legs and feet before putting them up on the bed, trying not to twist too much. He then rolled gingerly onto his stomach and blew out a breath, resting his head on his folded arms, turned away from Jon.

 

He heard him moving around the room, the sound of a zipper and rustling of clothing and shoes, the drawer in the bedside table opening and closing, before the bed dipped on his left and Jon was kneeling beside him. He heard the _snick_ of a cap and then the subtle scent of the massage oil drifted down to him. There was a pause and Trip knew Jon was warming up the oil in his hands before placing them on Trip’s back.

 

Then his hands were there, on Trip’s bare skin, and he sucked in a breath as he felt Jon’s fingers start to gently knead his lower back. And all at once, with that first touch, the most intimate thing between them in months, Trip was suddenly overwhelmed with a crushing sense of loss – of Jon, of Lizzie, of who he used to be. Too exhausted to fight the flood of emotions coursing through his body, he gave in and let the tears start to fall. In moments he was shaking with the intensity of the first outward sign of grief he had shown since his sister’s death.

 

He was wrapped in Jon’s embrace instantaneously, held close to his chest, one hand cupping the back of his head, the other rubbing his back, soothing.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Jon was whispering above the sound of Trip’s sobs. “Let it out, Trip…let it out…I’m here, I’ve got you…”

 

And Trip continued to let his grief pour out of him, knowing he was in the only place he could ever be so open and vulnerable and safe. He cried until there was nothing left inside him, until his exhaustion took over and he let the calming darkness claim him, still held in Jon’s embrace.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_Elizabeth!_

_Lizzie, you gotta get outta there!_

_Elizabeth!_

_Please! You gotta get outta there!_

_You gotta get away!_

 

“NO!”

 

Trip sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat, reaching out for his sister, trying to pull her away from the energy beam that would take her life, but his fingers encountered nothing but empty air.

 

“Trip?” came Jon’s groggy, concerned voice in the semi-darkness.

 

Trip looked to his right, trying to calm his ragged breathing, as Jon sat up next to him, a hand on his bare shoulder. “Bad dream?”

 

Trip swallowed and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 

Jon shook his head. “It’s all right. Is…this why you can’t stay asleep for long?”

 

Trip sighed deeply and lay back down, Jon following suit. “Yeah,” he admitted.

 

“Tell me about it?”

 

Trip rolled over to face him. “It’s the same dream every time. It started after Malcolm and I went to Panama City, what was left of it…” he trailed off. “I’m there, in Florida, on a patio. I can see Lizzie sitting at a table at the far end. I can see…I can see the weapon, the beam, coming right toward her.” Trip swallowed again. “I’m screaming at her to run, to get away, but she can’t hear me and I can’t move, can’t get to her…and I watch her die…” He blinked against the moisture in his eyes and swiped his hand across them.

 

Jon’s voice was rough with emotion. “It kills me to see you in this kind of pain,” he whispered, then Trip watched as guilt crossed his features for the second time. “And I’m sorry. It should have been me there with you instead of Malcolm. I was too wrapped up in everything else and I never should have ignored your grief.”

 

“Deep down I understood,” Trip told him. “You’d just been told you had to save the world and that’s where your focus had to be. But the other part of me, the selfish part…I _needed_ you…” he trailed off, voice full of pain.

 

Jon reached out and cupped the side of Trip’s face. “I'm here now. Let me help. Tell me what you need.”

 

Trip felt moisture behind his eyes again and his voice was thick with unshed tears. “I’m just…I’m numb, Jon. Ever since Lizzie was killed. I just want to feel again. Please…help me feel something…”

 

And Jon was there, his expression open and tender and so full of love that Trip’s breath caught in his throat. He’d begun to think that he’d never see that from Jon again. Then there was no more thinking as Jon dipped his head and kissed him softly.

 

Jon’s lips were soft and warm and Trip let himself fall into the kiss, felt himself shudder at this first sign of affection in so long, every nerve ending in his body starting to come alive. But he forced himself to relax, not rush this, letting his eyes drift closed, his arm wrapping around Jon’s back. Jon rolled toward him then, blanketing Trip’s body with his own, and Trip welcomed the warm, heavy weight.

 

The kiss went on, slow and tender, until Trip wanted more, and swiped his tongue across Jon’s lower lip, seeking entrance, which was gladly given. Twin sighs filled the air as their tongues slid against one another and the kiss deepened.

 

Trip’s fingers flexed on Jon’s bare back and he let one hand drift lower, over the swell of Jon’s ass. Jon rocked his hips at the touch and Trip pulled in a quick breath as he felt his cock begin to harden inside his briefs. He felt Jon smile into the kiss as he started up a slow rocking motion, driving their desire up one step at a time, not willing to rush this, either.

 

Trip could feel the evidence of Jon’s arousal as it grew and hardened against his own and he pushed at the waistband of Jon’s briefs, suddenly desperate to feel that heat against his body with nothing between them.

 

Jon pulled back from the kiss, understanding in his eyes as he removed first his briefs, and then Trip’s, before straddling the engineer’s waist. He bent forward then, capturing Trip’s mouth once more, bringing their groins into contact, their erections sliding against one another.

 

Trip groaned, hands moving to grasp Jon’s ass, encouraging him, and Jon obliged, pushing his hips down a little harder, a little quicker. Then he broke the kiss and moved back, but before Trip could protest, Jon’s mouth was on the side of his neck and Trip shivered.

 

Jon gave Trip’s neck, and the sensitive spot behind his ear, it’s due before kissing his way down to the top of his shoulder, then lower still, and Trip shivered again, this time in anticipation. After ten years Jon knew his body well, knew all the spots.

 

A moment later Jon’s tongue swiped across one of Trip’s flat nipples and Trip arched his neck, mouth falling open. “Yes…” he breathed.

 

Jon’s mouth closed over the nub then, hot and wet, sucking, tongue teasing it to pebble hardness as Trip’s right hand cupped the back of his head, pressing gently down. Trip’s left hand moved toward his other nipple but Jon pushed it away, using his thumb to rub against it over and over.

 

Trip was moving restlessly underneath Jon now, the intense sensations shooting down to his cock as Jon continued to stimulate his nipples. And when he bit down gently and tugged, Trip cried out sharply and felt his cock release a burst of pre-come. He heard Jon groan and then lift up his head, his eyes bright with desire and Trip knew they matched his own.

 

“Tell me what you want…” Jon whispered hoarsely.

 

Trip swallowed. “Want you in me. Wanna to be close to you…”

 

Jon’s kiss was deep, but tender at the same time and Trip held him tightly for a long moment. Then Jon was shifting, moving off of Trip and reaching toward the bedside table. When he turned back around, massage oil in hand, Trip couldn’t help but reach out and grasp Jon’s erection, standing out proudly from his body. He stroked it quickly, thumb sliding over the head, and felt the moisture there. Jon gasped, pushing into Trip’s touch for a second before moving his hand away.

 

“Not yet…” he said, reaching to cup Trip’s heavy balls in his hand, rolling them gently. “You first…”

 

Trip groaned deeply as Jon fondled him, bending his legs at the knees, then spreading them wide, letting Jon settle between them. He watched as Jon coated his erection and the fingers of his right hand in the oil then bent over him again, his left arm braced near Trip’s shoulder. They locked gazes and Trip felt Jon’s finger circling his entrance, pressing against the puckered muscle, teasing for a moment before pushing inside in one smooth motion.

 

Trip couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at the intimate touch and he grasped Jon’s arm as he began stretching him slowly, first with one finger, then with two. By then Trip was pushing down against them, trying to take them deeper inside him.

 

“Need you so bad, Jon, please…” he pleaded.

 

Jon withdrew his fingers and kissed him tenderly, calming Trip’s rapidly climbing arousal. “Not going to rush this,” he whispered. “Not after all this time. Long and slow. Want to make love to you all night…”

 

Trip put his hand on the side of Jon’s face, rubbed his thumb across his cheek. “God, I want that, too. Missed you, Jon. So damn much…”

 

Jon turned his head and kissed Trip’s palm. “I’m so sorry, Trip. Never again, I swear…”

 

Then he was reaching down between their bodies once more and Trip felt the blunt pressure of Jon’s erection for a moment before his body opened for him eagerly, drawing him inside. They both gasped, their eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as Jon slid in deeper and deeper. Jon stretched him and filled him so completely that Trip was nearly overwhelmed with the sensations after so many months without this intimacy. And one look at Jon’s face told him he was fighting for control, too.

 

Jon’s eyes were shining as he looked down at Trip. “I love you,” he breathed, voice breaking.

 

Then he was moving, shifting his hips back, then pushing forward, stealing Trip’s reply in a rush of pure arousal.

 

Trip lost track of how long they moved together as one, floating in a sea of love and desire, never wanting it to end, safe and complete in Jon’s arms, knowing he was giving back the same to the hazel-eyed man above him.

 

It finally became too much for both of them when Jon shifted, changing his angle, finding that spot inside Trip that made him shudder and contract his muscles around Jon’s hard cock. Trip pulled in a sharp breath and flexed his fingers against Jon’s skin as he felt his orgasm suddenly building at the base of his spine.

 

Jon pushed in again, harder, deeper and Trip felt him start to tremble, knew he was standing on the edge, too. And he wanted them to fall together.

 

He wrapped his legs around Jon’s waist, pulling him even closer. “Let go, Jon…” he said, breath coming in short pants now.

 

“Come with me,” Jon replied, voice tight with the completion he was trying to hold back.

 

Trip was helpless to do anything else a moment later when Jon stiffened and gave a sharp cry, a heartbeat before he was pulsing inside Trip over and over, filling him with his release. The sight, sound and feel of Jon in the throws of orgasm was all Trip needed, and he surrendered to the wave of ecstasy surging through him, his cock pulsing between their bodies, taking away his breath with the force of his orgasm.

 

They drifted in the haze of post-release for a long time, holding tightly to one another, kissing softly, not wanting to break the connection with each other quite yet. But eventually Trip’s eyelids started to droop and he felt sleep rushing up to claim him. Jon slipped slowly from his body then and gathered him close, his head resting on Jon’s chest. The last thing he remembered was a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

And there were no more nightmares.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Many hours later Trip’s eyes slowly blinked open. His body felt warm and heavy, but not his heart, or his head, like a giant weight had been lifted from him. And in a way it had. An emotional one. But there were still things that needed to be said. To repair their relationship and move forward.

 

Jon’s fingers were ghosting over his skin, soft and soothing. He tilted his gaze upwards slightly and was pinned by the warm depths of hazel eyes gazing back at him.

 

“Thank you,” Trip said quietly, heartfelt.

 

Jon leaned forward and kissed him. “We needed this, needed to reconnect with each other.”

 

Trip regarded him evenly. “But it doesn't fix everything.”

 

“It's a step in the right direction,” Jon replied.

 

Trip nodded. “We need to stop pushing each other away.”

 

Jon sighed. “It won’t be easy. Things are only going to get more difficult from here with this mission, for both of us.”

 

Trip pushed himself up on his elbow. “That's why we need to be there for one another,” he said strongly, then softened his voice. “Nearly ten years together, Jon. We lost each other once but got lucky and found our way back. We can't let it happen again. Or the Xindi win.”

 

“I'll never let that happen,” Jon vowed.

 

“Neither will I.” Trip put his hand on Jon’s chest, over his heart. “Then we do this together?”

 

Jon covered his hand with his own. “Always, Trip. Always.”

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
